In the Words of Darcy Lewis
by Artemis Day
Summary: Chronicling the beginnings of a beautiful romance between Darcy the undergrad student and Steve the postgrad hot librarian, told in the words of Darcy herself. Will she succeed in seducing the sexy bookworm, or will her own loose tongue be her downfall?


**A/N: This was written for the MCU AU Fest on AO3 for Mercury Williamson. It's also my first time writing Steve/Darcy, so I hope you like it!**

* * *

**SATURDAY**

Oh my god, I totally just fished this old notebook out of my old school bag while looking for my pencil sharpener! I can't believe it's been in here all this time gathering dust with my old math textbooks. It's been six months since my last entry from the looks of it.

In fact, it looks like I was saying in that entry that I would be writing again soon about how my first week of the new semester was going. I don't even remember the first week of the term anymore (there was a party with a lot of booze. Long story.).

I guess I could just write about how college in general is treating me. Not like I have anything better to do with my time. I was thinking of going out for a run to get a little exercise in, but meh, I can do it tomorrow or something maybe.

Anyway, I hate college.

And I don't mean it in the 'Holy-crap-my-essay-is-late-and-I'm-failing-midterms-and-I'm-40-grand-in-debt-I-have-no-idea-what-I'm-going-to-do-with-my-life-please-shoot-me' kind of way.

I mean, I hate it in that way to, but that's not relevant to the topic at hand.

No, I really hate it in the 'fucking-hell-I-hate-this-place-so-goddamn-much-why-did-I-bother-coming-here-in-the-first-place-please-shoot-me' kind of way, which, no that I write it out like that, sounds an awful lot like the first way.

Boy, I hope no one ever accidentally finds this notebook and reads it. Talk about embarrassing.

Alright, let me start over.

As you know, I am Darcy Lewis. I'm a third year undergraduate majoring in Political Science. My goal is to be the first woman president, and if that doesn't pan out, I'm shooting for 'pampered, globe trekking wife to a sexy millionaire.' As you can see, I try to keep all my options open and stay realistic.

I've been spending a lot of time with my pal, Jane, lately. She's a grad student in the physics department, which means I usually have no idea what the hell she's talking about. Seriously, she tries to explain to me the stuff she studies, but she might as well be speaking Chinese for all I know. She's basically the nerdiest nerd to ever walk on God's green earth, and yet she's still dating Thor, the school football star. To give you an idea of what I'm talking about, picture the hottest guy you've ever seen in your life, multiply that by about ten, add about sixty pounds of pure muscle, and sprinkle liberally with adorable puppy dog eyes, and you've got Thor.

Jane's been pissed lately because of Loki, Thor's younger brother, giving her a hard time. He's in the science department with Jane, though apparently he's on a much higher level than her, to the point where certain professors defer to his knowledge. I think he's been trying to put down Jane and act like he's smarter than her, but I'm honestly not too sure.

Again, Chinese.

Should also probably note that Loki is just as ridiculously gorgeous as his brother, albeit not in the same way. Picture for me now the hottest guy you've ever seen in your life, multiply by ten, add some serious smarts and an arrogant, bad boy attitude laced with emo. That's Loki.

There are some good genes in the Odinson family, let me tell you.

Jane thinks that Loki is trying to dissuade her from keeping things going with Thor by acting like a total douchebag and making her feel unwelcome. I'm trying to stay out of the situation, so I don't know how true that is. For all I know, Loki's really only doing it because he's jealous and he wants Jane for himself. Whatever. This notebook is supposed to be about my problems anyway.

Now, what was I talking about?

Oh, right!

I hate college.

Well, maybe hate is too strong a word. It's more like 'frequent and intense dislike marked by sudden fits of rage and the occasional urge to grab a rusty axe and murder everyone within a five mile radius.

…I really hope no one ever finds this.

I guess I'm so angry right now because I just got back from the library. I couldn't actually go in because the place was closed when I got there, and that means I'm stuck doing my homework in my dorm room tonight. Meanwhile, the person in the room next to mine is loudly screwing her boyfriend until three in the morning (he's not even supposed to be here after twelve). Seriously, someone just shoot me.

It looks like old Mrs. Golan fell and broke her hip while re-shelving the encyclopedias. At the risk of sounding insensitive, I can't say I'm surprised. I don't know what an 87 year old woman is doing running a two story library all by herself. Having known her for three years, I'd say she sustained herself on the essence of her own bitchness. Because I swear, that woman was a massive bitch.

Even Jane agrees with me on that, and she never swears!

See, you could have a book out, be one second late returning it, and she'll charge you a late fee. It wouldn't be so bad, except the late fee at this library is five bucks. I'm a college student. Five bucks is sometimes all my money for the week. Not that Mrs. Golan gives a shit whether or not you eat, just so long as there is money in her hand. And if you so much as cough in the library, you're ordered to leave for being 'rude and disruptive.' Judging from all that and the weird, stilted way she used to walk, I'd say that something literally crawled up her ass and died.

Now, it looks like she's going to retire and move in with her son in Tuscon. I can only say: Good Riddance!

I even heard that a replacement librarian has already been found. That was fast. It's almost like the government agency Mrs. Golan worked for was conspiring to be rid of her. Maybe they hated her as much as everyone else did.

So long as this new person is younger than eighty and not going to toss you out on your ass for breathing too loudly, I'll be happy with anyone. For now, I've got a four thousand word paper to finish, and my stupid neighbor's stupid boyfriend appears to be eating her out if her screams are any indication.

God, I hate this place.

* * *

**MONDAY**

I love this place.

I love it so, so much.

I take back every bad thing I ever said about it (except for that stuff about the tuna casserole in the cafeteria; that was inexcusable).

I just got back from meeting the new librarian. Today was his first day at work.

**_HE IS THE HOTTEST GUY I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE!_**

Forget about Thor and Loki. I have found the pinnacle of male attractiveness, and he is six feet tall and blonde and totally ripped underneath that navy blue prep sweater.

I may only be guessing about the last part, but you know, you'd have to be pretty damn strong to carry twenty encyclopedias from one end of the library to another (and up a flight of stairs) without breaking a sweat.

Also, his shoulders, man. His fucking SHOULDERS!

I could die and go to heaven.

But then I'd have to come right back down, because I'm going to ride that ass from here to eternity. Yes sir, no 'Will Senpai notice me' BS for me. I'm gonna make him notice!

I'm going back first thing tomorrow. I've got a week's worth of homework to do and a hot librarian to bag!

First step: find out his name!

* * *

**TUESDAY**

I have successfully made contact with Hot Librarian! He is a hundred times better than I thought he'd be.

First off, I was right about him being buff. So right. We're talking Greek God levels of buffness here.

I got to the library early, because I wanted to get in before all the drooling teenyboppers could show up. I caught them hanging around last night while Hot Librarian was locking up. About five of them were hiding behind the stairwell and a few more were loitering around the trees and lampposts. A bunch of hungry jackals, all of them. They're just like those girls who follow Thor and Loki around and give poor Jane the stink eye every chance they get.

In fact, I think a few of these Hot Librarian stalkers are also Thor and/or Loki stalkers. Oh, the fickle nature of the fangirl!

Anyway, I managed to avoid them this time around. Hot Librarian was in the history section putting some books back on the shelves. He had a different sweater on than last time, and this one didn't fit him quite as well. That was a real shame… at least at first.

See, the library is located in this really old building that's been around since the forties. The central air is probably a couple of decades older. It's like a sauna in there during the summer and early fall, which means bringing a full sized fan with you is all but a requirement (thank the lord Mrs. Golan never made rules against that). Don't ask me why they never installed a new system, or at the very least tried to fix the old one. That's a mystery I don't even want to tackle.

It worked to my advantage today. I mean, of course a girl isn't going to cover up so much in the middle of a heat wave. It makes perfect sense for her to go to the library for a serious cram session in a mini skirt and cleavage bearing top, right?

Of course it does!

It was all part of my flawless seduction strategy. I wouldn't even have to do anything but stand there. Unless he was gay, there was no way he wouldn't notice.

So I'm staking out behind the Sociology books, watching my new friend unload the cart and sweat up a storm. It got so bad that- you guessed it- he had to strip off the sweater. I don't know what he was thinking wearing that tonight of all nights. He's lucky he didn't get heat stroke. Anyway, I was a little disappointed when he turned out to have a white t-shirt on underneath the sweater. That's when I noticed that said shirt was sticking to his chest thanks to all the sweat.

It was a godly sight.

I don't know if it was the chest or the abs or the arms that got me the most… actually in retrospect, I think it was the arms. Let's just say it's no wonder he can carry sixty pounds of books with no trouble. You cannot get arms bigger than that without steroids (and I'm not gonna lie, I sometimes wonder about Thor). Now I know how the fangirls feel.

Of course, trust me to screw it all up right when I had the perfect moment to make my entrance. I was so entranced by his hypnotic biceps that I managed to knock two books off the shelf and startle him. After that, I couldn't exactly run away, but I was so freaking pissed at myself for being so clumsy, that when he came around the bend to see what had happened, I completely forgot about all the seducing I'd been going to do. I had to make up a story about needing a book on Marie Antoinette (first person who came to mind) just so I didn't embarrass myself and more than I already had.

He was happy to help me find what I needed, like a good librarian would. He led me over to the European History section and pointed out about five different books that might help me. Then he caught me staring too long at a book about Winston Churchill and launched into this massive rant about Word War II and how much he loves studying it. I've never been much for war history myself, but I listened and nodded along politely. He made it sound pretty interesting through sheer enthusiasm, which I liked.

He also never once tried to look down my shirt or grab my ass. Like, I could tell he was flustered by what I was wearing, because at one point I stooped over to pick up a pen I dropped while he was talking, and the poor boy started tripping over his words and stammering.

So what did I learn today? Well, Hot Librarian is indeed as hot as I'd hoped. He's also intelligent, well-read, ridiculously sweet, and polite about everything ever.

That settles it. I'm going to marry this guy.

* * *

**WEDNESDAY**

Caught Hot Librarian hanging out with a friend in the cafeteria today (the friend was also hot for the record).

I couldn't really make out what they were talking about, I moved to an empty table right across from theirs, about two down. So now I could hear what they were saying, but I didn't look like a creepy fangirl stalker either.

Which I'm not.

Anyway, I can't remember exactly what they were saying, but here is the gist of it:

Hot Librarian: I'm going to be busy at the library Saturday night. Think you can go it alone?

Hot Friend: You know I'd be happy with a beautiful girl on each arm, but you do realize this is the fourth week in a row that you've pulled this with me.

HL: Come on, this is a new job. I want to make a good impression.

HF: You said the same thing when you were leaving your old job.

Then, Hot Librarian got kind of quiet for a while and picked at his burger like a sad panda.

HF: Look, I know the last year has been hard on you, and I know you miss her, but you can't just give up your entire life.

HL: Who says I'm giving anything up? I just have work.

HF: Yeah, sure you do.

I would've stuck around longer (definitely not eavesdropping; it's not my fault they were loud enough to hear), but I happened to glance at the wall clock and realized that my next class started five minutes ago. I had to run out of there really fast before my professor locked the door.

So, it sounds to me like my guy is reeling off a bad break up. I guess I should add 'sensitive' to the list of his attractive qualities, because if he's still so upset over an ex-girlfriend a whole year after the fact, he can't be anything but. While my first instinct would be to question the sanity of anyone who'd let this guy go, at least now I know for sure that he's single, and attracted to women.

I may have to take a less direct approach from here.

* * *

**FRIDAY**

I have made a major breakthrough!

Hot Librarian has a name!

He is Steve Rogers.

Mrs. Darcy Lewis- Rogers.

I can live with that.

I got the information from Hot Friend, whose real name is Bucky Barnes. I bumped into him as I was getting out of my advanced economics class, and I do mean that figuratively speaking. This is no silly rom-com, and even if it was, he's not the lead. No, I just saw him reading a flyer on the bulletin board for the local NRA branch's charity bake sale and immediately recognized him. I also may or may not have kind of sort of not really accidentally called him 'Hot Friend' to his face.

Assuming it were true, I would have been taken by surprise and lost control of myself, leading me to point at him and go: 'Holy Crap, the Hot Friend!'

And he just kind of laughed it off (again, assuming it really happened, which cannot be proven), and introduced himself properly. We made small talk for a while about school and the weather and all that crap, until I was able to steer the conversation in the direction I wanted it to go. I had to make up some story about having seen him and Steve together at the library to explain how I knew they were friends, and just hope that Bucky was enough of a bookworm to buy it. Whether he did or he didn't, he had no objection to talking about Steve, and in minutes that followed, I learned the following about my guy:

He is working on an MBA in History, with a special focus on war history and WWII (no surprise there). He is (also unsurprisingly) an enormous WWII buff to the point where Bucky is convinced he's the reincarnation of a dead soldier. He suffered a lot of illnesses as a child that Bucky is still not sure how he overcame to become the Herculean man mountain he is today. His favorite color is blue. He is literally the nicest guy you could ever hope to meet in your life. He likes long walks on the beach and reads poetry until dawn while drinking red wine and listening to freeform jazz.

I think Bucky was just messing with me with that last one. Seriously though, the longer Bucky went on, the more he sounded like the host of the Dating Game. I think he really wants Steve to get over that ex-girlfriend of his and find someone new, and is happy to provide any interested (and sane) girl the necessary intel.

Hey, I'm not complaining!

I let him 'tell' me that Steve is going to be working late Saturday night, and I know for a fact he's going to be the only one there. No one but the most dedicated nerds or the dumb kids who procrastinate until the last possible second to study goes to the library on a Saturday night. The place is one small step above haunted.

It sounds like Steve is going to need someone to keep him company on those drafty weekends in, and I am more than up for the task.

* * *

**SATURDAY**

I got a call from Jane about an hour before I was planning on getting to the library. Looks like Loki's latest prank has made her apartment uninhabitable. I think. I'm not exactly sure what Loki did this time because Jane was screaming too much, first at me, and now at Loki's answering machine. What I'm getting is that it has something to do with banana pudding and the locks on Jane's door being changed. For once, I'm not pressing for details. I am far too busy.

I had to wait until Jane calmed down to make up the couch for her and invite to whatever she wanted out of my fridge. Luckily, I ran out of pudding cups yesterday, so there shouldn't be anything in there that'll bother her.

The bottom line is that she'll be staying with me for the next few days while her apartment is cleaned, and that means Steve and I are going to have to hang out at his place tomorrow instead of mine.

Oh yeah, you read that right.

I am a lucky, lucky girl.

So I got to the library when the moon was high in the sky. I'd been hoping to go closer to dusk, but what can you do. I found Steve pretty quickly, he was behind the front desk doing some cataloging and humming a song that I think was some kind of old-timey swing dance music. He was looking a-freakin-mazing in a forest green sweater tonight. I myself had left the mini-skirt at home and replaced them with some designer jeans. They're comfier and less suggestive, so I can come off a little gentler this time. Plus, they make my ass look great. Boy, was I feeling confident!

I camped out at one of the tables first, so that I didn't look too obvious. I tried getting into one of my law textbooks, but the chapter on property law was exceptionally dry tonight, and I decided that I'd better get on with it if I ever wanted to make any progress with Steve.

The first thing he did when he saw me coming was ask if I enjoyed the book. I then had to spend the next few seconds gaping like an idiot while frantically trying to figure out what he was talking about. When I remember the epic fail of our first encounter and how I got out of the that one, I wound up in a repeat performance from my meeting with Bucky, in which I blurted out the first stupid thing that came to mind:

"Yes, but it was boring. I felt like I was going to lose my head."

Master Wordsmith, I am not.

Steve laughed anyway, and it was a good-natured (and sexy) laugh, so I know he wasn't making fun of me. On a sidenote, he has perfectly straight and pearly white teeth. Just wanted to mention that.

I followed him around for a while after that as he was putting all the newly returned books back on their shelves. He talked more about World War II, and his knowledge on the subject proved to be downright encyclopedic. He knew every major battle like the back of his hand. He was telling me everything from the birth and death dates of famous war heroes to FDR's favorite author (Rudyard Kipling). I'm not gonna lie, it was a little scary.

When it was my turn to talk, I regaled him with tales of my days in my high school's debate club (seriously I could fill five journals with those stories). I told all about this one crazy girl who hated Italians for no discernable reason, only to find, while researching her family tree, that she was one sixteenth Italian on her mother's side. Then there was the time the club president's Grandmother came over unannounced and brought us sugar cookies. Then it turned out she'd been a phone operator in DC at the time of the Cuban Missile Crisis, and she spent an hour bitching out that movie, Thirteen Days, and everything it got wrong about what happened (and she seemed to have an extra special hatred of Kevin Costner that I don't think even had anything to do with the movie). He was a good audience when I was talking, and when he was and I was getting lost, he always stopped and apologized for babbling so much, which was almost as adorable as the babbling itself.

We agreed to meet up again at my place right before I left for the night, because I told Steve that my TV has 300 channels, one of which is going to be showing this documentary on the Normandy invasion that he's been dying to see. I neglected to mention that I forgot to pay the cable bill this month and the connection could be shut off at any time. Thankfully, I now have a good reason for why we have to change our plans.

Okay, I think I hear Jane going to bed, and it's well past three in the morning and I have classes starting at nine, I should probably hit the sack too.

* * *

**TUESDAY**

It has been one hell of a week.

But in a good way!

You know, mostly…

Let me start at the beginning:

Jane went back to her place last Monday, two days after my trip to the library (I should really start dating these). I haven't heard much from her since, so I may have to head over that at some point to make sure Loki hasn't kidnapped her.

Steve and I have been hanging out almost every day, both at the library- where he helped me prepare for a history test I'd been dreading- and after classes. Bucky tends to come along with us, and he loves to make Steve and I sit next to each other and then go off to the bathroom for an hour so that we're alone together. Did I mention I love Bucky?

The night after my last entry, the three of us played Call of Duty at their place. Well, Bucky and I played. Steve's not much for video games, so he just watched. He was cool about not getting to see his documentary show. Said he could just catch it when it gets put up on Hulu or Netflix.

What a saint he is. He's even above illegal downloading!

Yesterday, I caught up with them at lunch, and I could tell something had gone down just from the looks on their faces.

"Hey guys!" I said. "Why so down? Did someone die?"

Steve looked stricken for a second, and I was going to apologize for upsetting him (even though I still don't know what was bothering him), but then Bucky spoke up:

"Steve just wanted to ask you something, Darc."

Now, I know what that is code for. I've seen too many movies not to. Also, Steve is pretty transparent when there's something on his mind. So while I was busy having an internal panic attack because holy fuck it was happening, it was finally happening, he was finally going to ask me out… Steve was fidgeting around like a little kid trying to confess to a crush. It was too adorable, I swear. You had to be there.

"Go on, Steve," Bucky said when Steve took too long to talk.

_'Yeah, go on, Steve,'_ I thought to myself.

Steve was messing with his collar (he was back to the blue sweater today), and as cutely awkward as it was, I was getting impatient. The next few seconds were some of the most uncomfortable of my life, and as awkward as I felt, Steve must've been a thousand times worse. He kept opening his mouth like he was going to talk, then closing it again. When he managed to speak, he kept stopping and starting again. He said my name so many times I started to forget what it means. Then, right when I thought it couldn't get any worse, he leaves. He didn't say goodbye. He didn't say a single word. He just got up, grabbed his bag and walked out the door.

What.

The.

Hell?

Bucky got really annoyed then and went after him; neither of them ever came back. That was five hours ago and I've had yet to hear from them. I've been sitting in my bedroom with the TV all the way up to drown out my neighbor's latest raunch fest, and all I can do is wonder why.

Just… why?

Was it something I said?

Was it something I did?

Did I come on too strong?

Does he not really like me after all?

God, this has been a sucky day.

Writing it down helps a little, but I'm tired of waiting for the phone to ring, and just plain tired period. I'm thinking waaaaay too much tonight.

* * *

**WEDNESDAY**

I haven't heard from Steve in a while. Kind of starting to worry about him. I called their place yesterday when Steve didn't show up for work. I just got the answering machine. So I went over, and a neighbor told me that him and Bucky had left earlier that day to go and visit an old friend. He couldn't tell me much else, just that the two of them looked really somber as they were leaving, especially Steve.

What the heck is going on here?

* * *

**THURSDAY**

Still nothing from Steve. I think Bucky tried to call, but he didn't leave a message. Steve came back to work, though. Stupid testing week kept me in class until after closing.

Also, Jane's fine. She called me this morning to get some breakfast. She's been busy with schoolwork and quote unquote 'personal matters' all week, which is why she's been so absent. What a shocker.

* * *

**FRIDAY**

Still nothing, but tests are over, and I am done waiting.

I'm heading to the library first thing tomorrow. I know Steve wants to ask me out, and if that girl who dumped him has left him this scared and jaded about romance, then I have something to say about it.

Jesus Christ, I don't even know the woman's name yet, but if she's screwed him up this badly, I can only imagine she's some manipulating bitch who used him and then kicked him to the curb. Someone like that is completely unworthy of Steve's time and energy, and that's exactly what I'm going to tell him tomorrow.

I will not be silenced!

* * *

**SATURDAY**

I fucked up.

I really, really, really fucked up.

There are not enough words in the English language to describe how astronomically I fucked up.

I could quit school tomorrow and go walking around town topless with 'spank me I'm a bad girl' painted on my chest, and I would not have fucked up anywhere near the level I fucked up today.

How could I have so epically fucked up, you ask?

Well, let's go back to about six hours ago, when I made good on my promise to charge back into the fray and give Steve Rogers a piece of my mind.

Here's the scene:

I'm standing in front of the classical poetry section, feeling kind of like back when I was not-stalking Steve. Like, I could have just gone up to him, and I don't think he would have tried to run. A couple of kids were hanging around looking for some project material, and I did want to do this with an audience. They stuck around for a while before moving on. Right when they were out of the aisle and I was more or less alone with Steve, wouldn't you know it? Some teacher needs help finding an obscure title by an even more obscure author. Of course, she needs Steve to show her where to find all the books by -insert French person whose name I can't be bothered to remember here- could be found. I'd say she was more interested in staring at Steve's ass as he showed her the way, because she was doing it the whole freaking time (and I don't blame her, but it's the principle of the thing). I had to follow them, keeping two aisles of distance between us at all times (which is a lot harder than it looks). Once he found what she was looking for, it turns out- surprise, surprise- she's never read anything by the author and wants to know what Steve recommends. I swear this woman could not have been more obvious if she'd tried the 'naked under a trench coat' trick.

Eventually, she ran out of excuses and went off, thank the Lord. So now I had a clear shot at some alone time, right?

Wrong!

Lo and behold! Some braces kid needs to know where the Sci-Fi section is. As if he didn't already know.

But it didn't end there! Next up is a giggling fangirl who is wondering if the library carries any 'adult oriented reading.' (I could kill her.) And Steve, my precious, innocent Steve, completely misses the point and directing her to the mystery and horror section of the fiction end, which is full of books suitable for young adults.

(Actually, now that I think about it, maybe he _did_ know what she was talking about, because that girl couldn't have been older than sixteen.)

After that, another guy wants to know where the geography books are.

Then someone else needs a book on Nellie Bly.

Next is a Greek Mythology text!

And then a Spanish to English dictionary!

A good mystery novel!

Turn of the Screw!

Earthquakes!

Meteors!

The decline of Western Civilization!

THERE IS A PUBLIC DIRECTORY FOR A REASON PEOPLE!

By the time Bucky showed up talking about catching a movie, I'd been watching Steve play errand boy for a horde of lazy 'can't-just-use-the-fucking-computer' ingrates for over an hour, driving myself crazy trying not to let him see me, letting my blood pressure go through the roof until I was one small step away from a heart attack, and I was done playing around goddammit.

"Hey, Steve!" I shouted.

My feet were burning as I stepped out into the open, but my adrenaline levels were pumping off the charts, numbing me to (most of) the pain.

Steve was pretty surprised to see me, but not mad or anything. Bucky was much happier about it, as one would expect. He probably would've excused himself had I given him the chance.

"Darcy!" Steve said, and I could tell he was starting to sweat. I hadn't even said anything yet, but boy was I going to.

"Yeah, hi Steve, it's good to see you again after an entire week of nothing," I said.

He started to say something, but I wouldn't let him.

"You don't have to apologize, I'm not mad," I said. "I know you were going to ask me out last week, and I know you were so nervous because of what happened with your last girlfriend."

He looked pretty shocked when I brought her up, as did Bucky. This time, I think he was the one who wanted to talk. I didn't even care anymore that he was around to see this. The whole world- including Steve's bitch Ex- could have been watching for all I cared.

"I know you probably regret whatever happened to split you two up, but Steve, it wasn't you fault. Some people just aren't worth getting so broken up about. I don't know what this chick did, if she cheated on you or used you for money or just plain dumped you for no reason and left your heart in shambles, but I do know that you are too great of a guy to be this miserable or this afraid, and I just want you to be happy, Steve! You need to let her go. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

When I was finished, I felt like I was going to collapse. I was still relieved that I'd finally gotten my feelings out in the open, and from here, the cards could fall as they may.

That's what I thought until I got a good look at Steve and realized that he was only a few seconds away from bawling. I could see the tears at the corners of his eyes and everything. Bucky, on the other hand, looked like this weird combination of being embarrassed for me and wanted to hit me. I can't think of another way to describe it, and that would've been bad enough on its own without Steve's heartbreaking puppy dog face that made me want to take back everything I'd said long before I found out how wrong I'd been to say it at all.

"Maybe you're right," he said at last, and then, in a cold reprise of our last meeting, he walked away without another word and disappeared behind the shelves.

Once he was gone, and it was just me and Bucky shaking his head at me, I thought about going after him, or maybe just going home and giving him some space. Then Bucky came and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, sighing heavily.

"No one ever told you about Peggy, huh?"

And that's how I found out the awful truth about Steve Rogers and his first love. He was never dumped. He'd been very much in love with a girl called Peggy Carter. They were the kind of couple everyone is jealous of, because you look at them and you just know they're going to be ninety years old and still as besotted with each other as they were the day they met. Steve was getting ready to propose when it happened. Peggy was driving on the highway, going to meet him for a big date, when a truck driver who'd fallen asleep at the wheel plowed right into her car. Apparently, she died instantly and didn't feel any pain, not that this was much of a consolation for Steve, who'd just lost the only woman he's ever loved.

And I just made it a hundred times worse for him.

I have spent the last few weeks spitting on the grave of a dead woman.

I'm a horrible person.

I wouldn't be surprised if Steve never talks to me again.

* * *

**WEDNESDAY**

The last few days have been abysmal.

It's not just that I haven't heard from Steve and I'm too scared to go back to the library. My lack of library time means I'm stuck studying in my room with Linda Lovelace moaning and groaning all night long one paper thin wall away. I think I failed the last quiz in my communications class. I also appear to have come down with a cold, and my throat has been feeling like it's stuffed with cotton since last night. Not to go too far into TMI territory, but I think I've hacked up half my body weight in snot by now.

Even my friends are in full depression mode. I caught Thor at the local bar the other day drowning his sorrows in cheap beer. Looks like him and Jane have decided to 'take a break' from their relationship, but we all know what that means. I guess Loki's games got to be too much for Jane. She seemed pretty despondent the last time I saw her, but she didn't want to talk about it, so I let it go. Not like I don't have enough problems to be getting into someone else's. Well, she's a big girl, and Thor's a big boy. I'm sure eventually they'll both get over it and move on. It's still going to suck for them in the interim. Hell, I never even had a date with my guy, and I'm totally feeling the post-break up gloom.

Add all the components together, sprinkle with some grey, stormy weather that's persisted for days, and you've got yourself a perfect three layer shit sundae.

The cherry on top is a used tissue.

The short version is that everything sucks.

The more specific and truthful version is that everything sucked… until this morning.

It's weird that I just faked out a book, you know.

Actually, it's weird that I've been talking to a book at all.

Maybe I should see a therapist.

…nah.

Okay, so not everything I was saying up there was a joke. Thor and Jane really are broken up and I really do have a cold that's been bugging me, even though I am grinning like a fool as I write this. What happened today is that I was trying to get some extra credit work done in the cafeteria while a hundred rowdy college kids were screaming and throwing things. I got sick of that fast and went to the closed off quiet space to see if I could focus better. Only one other guy was there, and he left a little after I sat down, so I had the place all to myself.

I took out my books and my notes and started at the point where I left off on chapter ten… and wouldn't you know it? I still couldn't study. I don't know what it was: the stuffed nose, the lack of immodest orgasms in the background that I was starting to grow accustomed to, or just the rampaging guilt fucking me up some more.

I just couldn't stop thinking about Steve.

Something about the quiet room reminded me way too much of him. It seemed like everywhere I looked, there was a jelly stain that was the kind he had every day at lunch, or something painted yellow like his hair. All these innocuous things were standing out to me and making me hate myself even more than I already did.

I think that was the first time I realized how much I like Steve. I mean, obviously I've liked him from the start or else none of this would have happened, but it's more than that now. I really, _really_ like him. The kind of like that's reserved for people you one day might be in love with, and when you joke about wanting to get married someday, secretly you really mean it. Like… I really want to be with Steve Rogers for more than just one night of awesome sex. I want to have a lot of nights of awesome sex, and a lot of other nights with… you know, non-sex related stuff that couples do. I mean- you know, talking and taking walks and going out and… and you know, that sort of thing.

God, I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore. I don't think this has ever happened to me before.

No wonder my immune system is crashing.

Whatever cosmic forces have brought this misery upon me, it's also causing some really contrived coincidences. Guess who walked into the quiet room right in the middle of my self-loathing episode?

Well, it sure wasn't Jane or Bucky!

Steve was wearing a purple sweater today, very 'meh' if you ask me (he looks great in blue and no-so-great in red, so mixing them together achieves this result). His lunch was in a plastic bag and he had several books tucked under his arm. As soon as he caught sight of me, he stopped.

"Darcy," he said.

I was completely frozen. I couldn't move an inch in any direction. All I could think was what in the name of all things holy was he doing here, in the quiet room with no one else around while he's blocking the only exit. Did God really hate me that much?

Is it because I had pizza during Passover last year?

When he moved to sit down, he left the door wide open. There was my chance to escape. I grabbed my bag and the rest of my lunch.

"I'd better go," I said. I moved hastily to the door.

"Wait!"

I stopped. Curse him and his irresistibly compelling voice.

There he was, looking utterly gorgeous in spite of the questionable fashion choices, his hand outstretched like he was going to grab for me. He was still sitting, but I had a feeling he'd get up and follow me if I kept going. It may be a cliché, but my heart was pounding as I sat back down. He had, of course, taken the seat right next to mine.

"Look, Steve, I'm sorry," I said. I wanted to get that out before anything else was said. There was a lot more than that on my mind, but given my track record for running my mouth off, shutting up seemed like the better option.

"I know," Steve answered with a nod. "I'm sorry too. I should have told you about Peggy."

"But I'm the one who trashed her right in front of you. I had no idea-"

I had to stop there to let out a barrage of sneezes. I was lucky enough to have one napkin left that was only slightly dirty with which to cover my mouth. When it finally stopped and I was able to compose myself, I looked up to find Steve holding an open packet of extra soft tissues for me. My hero.

"That's right," Steve said as I was wiping the top of my lip clean. "You had no idea, and you made an assumption based on what little you did know. It just so happened that you were wrong. If you'd known all along what really happened to Peggy, would you have said what you did?"

"No, absolutely not!" I said.

"Then that's it," he said, smiling. "You said you were sorry, and now it's over. Believe it or not, I was never mad at you to begin with."

I didn't believe it.

"You were right about one thing: I can't keep living in the past. I know that I'll always love Peggy and miss her, but I also know that she wouldn't want me to be alone for the rest of my life, and I don't want to be either. Bucky's been telling me for months, but I think I'm finally starting to get it, and it's because of you."

Oh god, he was doing so well and then he had to get cheesy. I don't know whether to laugh or cry or just smother him with love. That's Steve for you!

He took me by the hand, and his wasn't shaking at all, unlike mine.

"So, with that in mind, Darcy Lewis, will you please go on a date with me?"

I could've kissed him. Right then and there. Long and hard.

I only didn't because we'd just gotten done talking about his dead former fiancée and it felt inappropriate. I'll just have to save it for the date, which I accepted. As if you needed me to tell you that.

We decided to meet up at the Panera Bread tomorrow night, after Steve gets off from work. Nothing too fancy, it is just the first date after all.

"Just one thing," I told him right before I had to leave for my next class and he had to go reopen the library, "please wear the blue sweater."

So that's it! Mission accomplished. I've got a date with Steve Rogers: hot librarian and Best Guy Ever extraordinaire!

I may not have gotten it in the way I expected, but hey, this way might be better.

I'm glad I had this dumb old notebook to write it all down it. Weird as it sounds, I think this may have kept me sane throughout the whole thing, especially after that whole Peggy fiasco. I don't know when I'll have time to write again, since I have a feeling I'm going to be pretty busy in the next few weeks. Right now, I have to go and decide what I'm going to wear for the big date. I'm thinking my light pink sundress. It's pretty and stylish, but not like I'm expecting anything. I think Steve will like it. I've got some pumps that'll go great with it.

I guess I'll sign off for now. I'll try and write again tomorrow when I get back. I'm sure I'll have lots to talk about. I'm definitely not going to drop this journal in some old bag of mine, only to find it again by chance six months from now.

No way in hell I'm letting that happen again!

**  
**FRIDAY**

Oh my God! I was just packing up my room to move into my new place next week, and I literally just found this book wedged under my mattress. I can't believe it's been eighteen months since my last entry, and I see that I left off promising that I would write back the next day about my first date with Steve.

I guess I shouldn't be making promises anymore, huh?

Well, it's probably for the best. Look at that, I was talking to a book like it was a person. Was I going nuts? It's a wonder I didn't start peeling the wallpaper.

I guess I might as well write about how the last year and a half has been. I have twenty minutes to kill before Steve comes to pick me up.

The short version: things are awesome.

The long version: Steve and I had our first date, and it was awesome.

Yes, we did kiss. It was so good that we kissed again on our second date.

And the third.

And the fourth.

And the fifth.

And I think you get the idea.

I don't remember exactly when we went from kissing to, well, turning the lights down if you catch my drift. Sometime around the seventh or eighth month I think (I couldn't keep tally, I was too busy telling Steve to go a little to the left and faster). That may sound like a long time to wait for some, but trust me, it was (and continues to be) well worth it.

Things have been going well for everyone, actually. Thor and Jane never got back together, but overtime they managed to form a friendship. Jane says things are still a little weird between them, but they've got plenty of time to work it out. After all, they are going to be family soon.

Oh yeah, turns out that my little joke about Loki liking Jane all along was right on the money. All those times he played juvenile pranks and endlessly teased her, he wasn't being a sadistic, disapproving future brother-in-law, he was being a surly playground bully with a crush. Somehow, him and Jane managed to work through the worst of the dysfunction (don't ask me how), and now they can't keep their hands off each other. I've walked in on them more times than I can count (Loki looks surprisingly good without a shirt on), which is the reason I'm scared to move in with Jane. And I thought that neighbor was bad- and speaking of the neighbor, she broke up with that boyfriend of hers and found another guy who's even louder in bed. It figures.

At least it's only temporary. The wedding's just three months away, and then I have the place all to myself. Even better, Jane's TV has a whopping 500 channels! At least three of them are history related. Steve is just going to melt when he finds out.

Jane's assurances notwithstanding, I know Thor was broken up about losing her to his baby brother. Most people would be. I guess he was moping so much that even his parents got sick of it. His mom wound up re-introducing him to this childhood friend who grew up hot and loves sports and fighting even more than he does. That was pretty the moment the torch he carried for Jane went out for good. I've only seen him and the new girl a few times, but they seem very happy together.

As for me, I've been keeping busy with schoolwork and junk. I worked a summer job last year at an Apple store and used my employee discount to buy Steve his first ipod. I'm still trying to teach him to use it, but we're getting there slowly. He got his Master's Degree last week and left his job at the library. He's looking into getting a teaching position at the college in the history department, and just finished showing his replacement the ropes. She's a real sweet girl; I think she'll do a good job.

I'm just about to complete my BA, and it looks like I'll be sticking around for graduate school too. What can I say? Everything and everyone I love is right here!

I went with Steve to visit Peggy's grave last month. It was my first time going. Steve said I didn't have to come, but I wanted to. I wanted to pay my respects. I did feel a little weird about it once I got there. I didn't have anything to say. I'd never known Peggy personally. I mean, it's not like I can walk up to her grave and go, 'Hey, thanks for dying so I could have him.'

In the end, I talked about how sorry I was that we never met, and that I bet we would have been friends if we had. I told her about how great Steve has been doing, and I promised her that I would take good care of our boy. It felt good to say, gave me a real positive feeling inside.

And I'm not all that religious or spiritual either. My poor old Jewish Grandma would be so disappointed in me if she was still alive. I don't believe in ghosts or angels of any of that, but right at that moment, when I was finished talking, I could've sworn I felt a hand on my shoulder. I know it wasn't Steve, because he was on my other side and in front of me, and there was no one else around who could've done it.

If my grandma had been there, I think she'd have said it was Peggy's way of giving us her blessing.

But nah, all that stuff is a big crock. It was probably just the wind.

Anyway, I'm gonna have to cut this short. Steve is going be here any minute, and this is a big date we're going on tonight. I don't know for sure that it'll be what I think, but Steve did tell me to put on the nicest thing I have and get my hair done. Loki said the same thing to Jane one night a few months ago, and the next day, she had a giant rock on her finger.

I'm not getting my hopes up or anything, but oh who am I kidding? Of course I am!

I'm getting enga-aged!

I'm getting enga-aged!

I'm getting enga-aged!

If this notebook was a person, I'd be dancing around the room with it.

I'm doing a little dance anyway as I write this.

Oh, I think I hear Steve coming now. That is definitely the sound of his car pulling up. Thank goodness I live on the bottom floor and I can see him from my window. Damn, does he look good, but what else is new, am I right?

I see he's checking himself in the mirror one last time. Poor thing must be nervous. Come on, baby, you're as hot as ever, just come on out already!

I think he can see me watching him through the window. He's smiling in my direction and waving, and he kind of looks like he's trying not to laugh, but I don't know why. I'm going to wave back. Might as well, right?

God, I love this man. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with him.

Now he's opening the car door. About freaking time, am I right?

He's getting out of the car, and…

And he's wearing the purple sweater.

Wiseguy.


End file.
